


Defiance

by eldritcher



Series: The Journal of Fingolfin [5]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:42:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4002769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eldritcher/pseuds/eldritcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A family gathering after Maedhros’s recovery since his rescue from the Thangorodrim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Defiance

“He is drunk”, Fingolfin remarked to his nephew casting a sideways glance to the boisterous gathering before him.

 

Maglor smiled saying, “I agree, Nolofinwe. Findekano has plied him with the strongest wine this side of the sea. I have never seen Russandol so drunk.”

 

Sitting between Turgon and Maedhros, Aredhel suggested, “Maitimo, will you sing for us? You seem in high spirits.”

 

“I suppose you mean that literally, Irisse?” Turgon laughed as Maedhros frowned, “Our brother has been filling Maitimo’s glass unceasingly. High spirits indeed. What is the game, Findekano?”

 

Fingon looked at Maedhros, who was frowning at his refilled glass with the concentration of the totally-drunk. Deeming it safe to comment, he said laughing, “It is good to see him like this. I cannot ever remember seeing him drunk.”

 

“I suppose he will not forgive you soon”, Finrod remarked watching with mild worry as Fingon poured more into his eldest cousin’s glass, “That is enough, Findekano. You will confine him to his bed for a week!”

 

“Well”, Maglor said softly, “Atleast he will be knocked out and sleep in peace without those nightmares.”

 

Galadriel asked quietly, “Do you still watch over him at nights? You look weary.”

 

Maglor smiled saying, “Now I appreciate my brother more. He must have had a hard time watching over the six of us!”

 

Fingolfin laughed saying, “True, he was a single parent most of the time to his brothers and my eldest. I used to wonder about his endless patience with such an unruly lot.”

 

“As you watched over me”, Maedhros nodded to his uncle and then motioned to Fingon to fill his glass again.

 

Maglor said firmly, “No more, Findekano. As it is, you will have to face his ire.”

 

Fingon asked, “Maitimo, will you be angry with me?”

 

“Not unless you don’t pour the wine”, Maedhros spared him a glare before shoving his glass towards Fingon again.

 

“Maitimo!”Fingon said amazed, “You are not drunk yet!”

 

“He is”, Maglor said confidently, peering at his brother observantly, “But unlike you, he retains most of his faculties when drunk though he gets very philosophical.”

 

“Yes”, Fingolfin said laughing, “I remember when we got drunk for Arafinwe’s begetting day. Curufinwe was drunk, when he got drunk he resembled you, Findekano; All bawdy songs and tales! Arafinwe had slept on the table. I was not drunk yet. But Russandol here, was drunk and still patiently explaining to me the principles of making wine. He seemed so serious!”

 

“I am drunk”, Maedhros proclaimed as he rested his head on his sole hand, “Findekano, you will pay for this.”

 

“I don’t think you will stir out of bed for a few days, Maitimo”, Fingon said dismissively, “Anyway you wouldn’t dare harm me. You love me too much.”

 

“Where did you get that idea?” Aredhel asked huffing at her brother’s smugness, “He will murder you if he remembers this.”

 

“He told me himself”, Fingon said breezily, “Didn’t you, Maitimo?”

 

Maedhros sighed as he downed the wine in his glass before staring at Fingon mournfully saying, “In my present state of drunkenness, I would probably even kiss you if you asked me to, cousin”, he looked up at Maglor, who was suppressing a grin, “Brother, I think you should take me to my tent while I can still walk.”

 

“Never mind”, Turgon said helpfully, “You are the top entertainment tonight, Maitimo. Anyway my brother is used to carrying you around.”

 

Galadriel leant across the table ignoring Finrod’s warning glare and asked Maedhros, “Maitimo, you have never told us how Findekano rescued you. I would be honoured to hear the tale from you. Findekano’s version was…there is no other way to express it, obtuse and incoherent.”

 

“You would not appreciate me even if I could sing like Macalaurë, Artanis”, Fingon glowered, “You are simply jealous that I did not dance with you on my begetting day celebration ball.”

 

Galadriel glowered back at him as the rest of the table laughed at Fingon’s pert explanation.

 

Maedhros said softly, “Artanis, while it is a good ploy to try to make me talk of his valour while I am drunk, I am sorry to disappoint. I frankly don’t remember much of that day. I remember the song, the harp, and the eagle. Then when he freed me, I suppose I must have passed out in pain”, his face became blank of emotions as he pondered the half-empty glass before him, “Then I remember waking up in a bed staring at Macalaurë.”

 

“You told me that you loved me”, Fingon supplied incorrigibly, “And that I am so beautiful, more splendid than the sun”, he fluttered his eyelashes causing Finrod to choke on his wine.

 

“I don’t think I have said that, Findekano”, Maedhros shrugged raising the glass to his lips, Maglor smirked, “Atleast not to you”, Maedhros modified.

 

Galadriel asked impatiently, “You are hedging like my father, Maitimo! Tell me the story.”

 

“I miss Arafinwe”, Maedhros remarked as he accepted a refill resignedly from a determined Fingon, “I wish he had the courage to come with us.”

 

“You insult my father’s courage!” Aegnor said harshly, breaking his stubborn silence all through the discussion, “Atleast he had the courage to admit his mistake unlike your father.”

 

Fingolfin said quellingly, “We will not quarrel tonight, my nephew. You know Russandol would never insult my brother.”

 

“Yet it is an insult”, Aegnor said bitterly, “Why do you say nothing, Findarato? Have you already forgotten our father?”

 

Finrod said soothingly, “You know that is not true. But as uncle said, Maitimo was simply expressing his wish that father was here. And Father himself confessed to us that he feared to come east.”

 

“I demand an apology”, Aegnor said firmly looking at Maedhros, who was still bantering with Fingon.

 

“Have mine”, Fingon offered easily, “For inviting you here, cousin!”

 

“Findekano!” Turgon hissed, “You are impossible.”

 

“One more reason why I am irresistible”, Fingon looked over at Maedhros flirtatiously, causing Aredhel to burst out laughing.

 

Maglor leant across and addressed Aegnor, “Cousin, my brother is not in a sensible state right now. Forgive him, I am sure he meant no offence.”

 

“He spoke his heart when his tongue is loosened by spirit”, Aegnor said harshly, “I demand justice.”

 

“Brother”, Finrod said mildly, “I must insist that--”

 

“You stay out of this”, Aegnor said quietly, “Nelyafinwe?”

 

Maedhros shook his head and set his glass down saying, “I must ask you to demand an apology from Findekano. He has got me drunk.”

 

“You will not apologize?” Galadriel asked, her eyebrows raised, “I though you were drunk enough.”

 

“No”, Maedhros said looking at Maglor, “Brother, I do think that it is time for me to retire. I am very relaxed.”

 

Maglor stood and walked to his brother, helping him up. Maedhros clutched at Maglor’s arm unsteadily. Turgon rose to assist them, sparing a glare for his elder brother, who was solicitously shoving a full bottle into Maedhros’s hand.

 

“I challenge you, first blood, satisfaction for this insult”, Aegnor threw one of his riding gloves at Maedhros’s feet.

 

Fingolfin buried his head in his hands. Aredhel sighed as she looked to Finrod for a solution. Maedhros was staring at Aegnor stunned.

 

Maglor said testily, “This play has gone on enough. Cousin, if you demand satisfaction, do so of Curufinwe…he will oblige you. Now if you will excuse us, I must see to Russandol.”

 

Fingon added, “Yes, Maitimo is close enough to sleeping on his feet. Begone with you.”

 

“‘Maitimo’?” Aegnor jeered, “Cousin, is not that name ill-suited for Nelyafinwe now?”

 

Fingon retorted before Maglor could speak, “Indeed, he has become more handsome than before.”

 

Aredhel added laughing, “Findekano, if you knew of the number of guards and maids waiting to be noticed by Maitimo, you would despair. Even the Moriquendi are charmed by his beauty.”

 

Fingolfin sighed, “Macalaurë, take him away. Findarato, do temper your brother. We can ill afford strife.”

 

“Nolofinwe”, Aegnor said loudly, “How can you be sure, any of you, that Nelyafinwe has not been returned as a thrall of Morgoth?”

 

Maedhros leant onto his brother and said quietly, “Pick up the challenge, Macalaurë”, he met Aegnor’s eyes steadily, “I need a week’s time, cousin, before I answer you.”

 

 

Fingon said angrily, “This is folly, Maitimo, there are only three more days. And you are not even able to get out of bed by yourself!”

 

“There are three more days”, Maedhros sighed as he watched his cousin pacing the tent restlessly.

 

“You could withdraw”, Fingon said reasonably, “Nobody would say anything. Only our family was present there. Findarato will smooth the mess, he is good at that.”

 

“I am honour bound to answer his challenge, Findekano”, Maedhros said in a disturbed voice, “Would that you had never got me drunk!”

 

“Macalaurë asked me to unwind you a little”, Fingon offered smirking, “And I achieved that, didn’t I?”

 

Maedhros scowled and then closed his eyes in pain as he shifted to his side, Fingon snatched at the chance saying smugly, “See what I mean! You are not even able to move without pain!”

 

 

Fingon sighed as he stared accusingly at the bottle of wine Finrod offered. Maedhros’s younger siblings had turned in full force to avenge the insult to their eldest brother. Aegnor was not making matters easier.

 

“It is time, cousins”, Turgon said shortly as he poked his head into his brother’s tent, “And I must tell you, Carnistro and Curufinwe are in armour.”

 

“The next time you have a plan to unwind Maitimo”, Finrod said furiously, “consult me first!”

 

Fingon’s temper was not much improved at the sight of Maglor pensively speaking with Fingolfin.

 

“Does he recede?” Finrod asked hopefully, walking over to uncle and nephew.

 

“Not a hope”, Maglor said sadly, “He cannot bear the weight of his own sword and requested Nolofinwe’s. It is the lightest.”

 

 

Aegnor looked uncertain and guilty as Maedhros walked to the ground, supported by Caranthir and the elder Ambarussa. Maedhros’s maimed arm was in a sling and his hair was pulled back by a thong to reveal the true ghastliness of his face. His gait seemed painful and his sole hand was gripped on Fingolfin’s blade. But the grey eyes were serene and uncomplaining of fate. Maedhros nodded to his brothers and they left him in the centre of the court, facing his opponent. He executed a clumsy, yet graceful bow and raised his sword.

 

Aegnor repeated his cousin’s gesture and started circling slowly. But Maedhros stayed where he was, his weariness and pain hindering him. He forced himself not to look into Galadriel’s worried face or Finrod’s pitying one. Fingon, his father and Maglor had retreated, not wanting to see him suffer.

 

Aegnor charged and struck blade from Maedhros’s weak grip. It clattered on the ground. Maedhros took a deep breath as Aegnor made to topple him and moved out of the charge clumsily. He stooped to pick up the blade and turned to face Aegnor again, a brief expression of pain flickering across his features.

 

“We can stop this if you want”, Aegnor offered, watching Maedhros fight to steady his breathing.

 

Maedhros shook his head and raised his blade in defiance again, Aegnor muttered, “Pride shall be your undoing, cousin”, as he charged.

 

Maedhros brought up his sword to parry his cousin’s blow. The dull clang of metal against metal was a sound he had not heard for years. He grit his teeth, he would never succumb again, to elf, man or beast. He whipped around, drawing on an energy he had never seen in himself before and met Aegnor’s charge with fluid grace. He was maimed, he was broken, but he would never give up.

 

Aegnor gasped in horror and disbelief as blood spurted from his wrist where Maedhros’s sword had struck his skin. Finrod and Turgon pulled him away. Maedhros dug his sword into the ground and slumped over the handle saying in a soft, but , clear tone, “I am no thrall of Morgoth.” 

 

He was dimly aware of Maglor’s voice rising in pain, pride and fear as they hurried to aid him. Fingon’s voice was gruff, as it was always when his cousin turned emotional. Fingolfin was asking for the healers.

 

 

Two days later, he gained consciousness to find himself staring up at Maglor’s face. He realized that his head was resting on his brother’s lap. He snuggled into the soft velvet robes contentedly.

 

“You are awake?” Maglor said anxiously, “Stupid brother. You lost so much blood. I was scared to death.”

 

Maedhros smiled softly, “Atleast he believes me now, as do the rest. I would die than being called his thrall.”

 

 

NOTES:

 

Maitimo – Maedhros

Nolofinwe – Fingfolin

Russandol – Fingolfin bestows this name, because of his nephew’s hair

Nelyafinwe – Maedhros

Macalaure- Maglor

Findekano – Fingon

Findarato – Finrod

Irisse – Aredhel

Artanis – Galadriel

Carnistro – Caranthir

Curufinwe - Curufin

Thangorodrim – The rocks where Maedhros was held captive in Angband


End file.
